


the stars and seas envy his eyes

by dauntinq (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Compliant, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, but no one dies so its ok, enjoy some first years three years later, i cant write meaningful/poetic shit, i wrote this in four hours at 3 am, no happy ending, thats why its so shitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dauntinq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>He looked my way.</p><p>I hate eyes.</p><p>I hate his eyes.</p><p>Because they're the only thing that I can't convince with my words.</p><p>"Me too."</p><p>//prompt: age au//</p>
            </blockquote>





	the stars and seas envy his eyes

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at writting poetic bs and trying to make an angsty one-shot  
> im also a terrible writter
> 
> i was really angry and mad and decided to take it out on this beautiful ship

"I admit,

I was afraid

to love.

Not just love,

but to love him.

For he was a stunning

mystery. He carried things

deep inside himself that no one

has yet to understand,

and I,

I was afraid to fail,

like the others.

He was the ocean

and I was just a boy

who loved the waves

but was completely

terrified to

swim."

**—Christopher Poindextor**

_"draw a map, find a path._  
take a breath and run."  
\- h.i.w || "and run"

Their eyes met in the midst of the people.

He came in like a bullet, fast and unexpected as he gently shut the door behind him in a faulty attempt to muffle the entrance.

His heart beat matched the thumping of my volleyball on the wall as Kuroo stared at him, emotionless and _warily_.

His thoughts were an intricate mess, a minefield he had to tread onto carefully. Kuroo had to bite back a laugh, a cry, and a shout simultaneously.

_Since when did it come to this?_

They stood on opposite sides of the court, even though just yesterday he was on Kuroo's.

Did he not realize that this type of _feeling_ was embarassing and Kuroo couldn't afford that? Well, he wouldn't. He wouldn't try, he wouldn't see. The words—can't, couldn't, wouldn't—held a similar rhythm, yet the meanings marched to their own beat.

Apparently Kei did not realize the difference between all of them.

They were strangers, people with back stories they refuse to acknowledge.

At least after what Kei told him.

They used to be friends.

At least that's what Kuroo convinced himself.

He looked at him with those bright hazel eyes. Eyes that Kuroo once adored and loved and that he cherished and compared to everything and oblivion. Nothing could ever beat their their emptiness as he walked onto the court.

_Your eyes look like the sun I wake up to._

But Kuroo was selfish, and tried to take more than what was given to him.

He didn't understand Kuroo's obsession over him, from his soft pale skin to his oversized sweaters; he _bleed_ for him.

He told him his thoughts, a sacred place that belonged to _him_.

He still won't understand why Kuroo did what he did.

_To be frank, Kuroo doesn't either._

And now, they didn't speak, just communicated through pupils that dilated when they saw the other.

And through their _eyes_ , they spoke louder than they would have with their _words_.

—

Kuroo supposes it started when Kei came up to him.

He acted as if he didn't hear.

At the time, Kuroo had believed his instinct was to protect him. He gave him the opportunity to take everything back, to pretend they were normal and ignore whatever had eaten Kei up enough to say that.

Tsukishima Kei was not someone who regretted his decisions.

And now, three years later, he realizes the only one he was protecting was himself. Because after those three words, he felt something and everything and his heart could take it no longer.

Happiness, hope, excitement, ambition.

And _fear_.

One outweighs them all, and it doesn't take too much thinking to realize which.

"Are you sure?"

Kei looked up.

"Are you sure you don't like girls?"

He stared at Kuroo.

"You're a cool kid and all but...."

He frowned.

"Don't you think that's kinda disgusting?"

Looking back, Kuroo asumes that was the moment when the light leave his eyes.

"Are you gay, Tsukki?"

And then he had launched the last blow.

He _laughed_.

"Come on, let's go back to practice."

Human's have this inability to look at themselves. We have reflections, mirrors. But all those show us are the bending of light as it comes to contact with a specific material.

Yet we can see others.

We can look at their little tendencies, and we can hear their words.

Nobody can tell Kuroo what he looked like when he told that to Kei.

But he can tell you exactly what color shoes he wore, what direction the wind blew on his hair, or how _fake_ the smile he gave him was.

_He didn't know that wouldn't be the first time Kei would shield himself with a smile._

Right there was when Kuroo took that last look at him. Because he knew that was the last time he would see him.

See him as the guy he's been crushing on ever since that first match.

As the sarcastic, cocky, determined, and bored boy that only wanted to listen to music and play volleyball.

Kei turned around.

Kuroo can still remember the words he said.

"Ah, I guess you're right."

He remembers wondering how he got the courage to say something like that. He wonders if it took courage.

Or if he just said it, because he thought that was what Kuroo wanted to hear.

_You were wrong, Kei._

Then he had seen him walk emotionlessly to a little blonde girl.

"Did it work out?"

"It was never going to."

He didn't see how much Kuroo's hand was shaking.

—  
**kuroo**

One word, a name rather.

Something which started with a greeting.

_Hey Tsukki._

And ended with a good-bye.

_Bye Tsukishima._

The saddest part, the most echoing words that dig inside my chest with every thumping and syllable was that it hurt to call you _Tsukki_.

So much that I called you what everyone else did. In the end, no longer would I stick out. No longer would you blush whenever I called you my Tsukki. No longer would you linger around me because you felt the need too.

_No longer would you love me like you did when I took your name._

You couldn't feel sentiment when I called you Tsukishima because alas, as did everyone else. It was a common, modern thing to tell you. A simple, redundant buzzing in your ear.

The only mouth that name could escape from was mine, because when I took your name from you, you took my interest. I believed there should have been some type of trade.

A name for the ability to say it.

It hurt to change your name to something only I was privileged to say.

Especially when I no longer had the power too.

"Hey Tsukishima." He continued walking out of the gym, as if deaf from all the stupidity I threw his way.

" _Tsukki_."

He stopped walking.

"Yes? Kuroo?" He didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry."

He looked my way.

I hate eyes.

I hate his eyes.

Because they're the only thing that I can't convince with my words.

"Me too."

—

A friend once told me not to fall in love with eyes.

I didn't understand then.

He said they captured you throughout lens that contracted to focus on your face, every imperfection shown in HD memory.

People have eyes to see flaws, and those with the most beautiful ones never spoke much, and showed feelings throughout movements, through actions.

I asked him how you determine which ones were the most beautiful.

He told me the ones that never lie.

The owner of such eyes can be compared to a trek across foreign land which never seems to end. They see _everything_ , even if it looks like they know _nothing_.

Before, I didn't know.

But this is now.

(And now doesn't determine an after.)

_I really should be listening to the teacher drawl about necessary facts for the beginning of year exam._

I should be worried about my grades.

How I should start the school year.

How I should prevent myself from drinking again.

Yet my heart beats my mind.

_And yet all I can think about was him._

College is a pain.

"Kuroo, let's go to the bar."

They knew they just had to say that one fateful word, and I would come running.

"Kuroo, we have practice." A familiar owl-haired boy jumped on my back.

But he noticed how I already had a glass in my hand.

Bokuto frowned and took the drink away. Daishou, one of the drunktards grinned with a little wave in his step. "Let Kuroo do what he wants. School just started, just let him have his drink." He purred, grabbing Bokuto by the ear.

The rather easily annoyed boy looked down at me with something swarming in him. A little bit of confusion, tinted with anger, and sprinkled with sadness.

_The perfect recipe for pity._

_Take your pity away, I don't need it._

"If that's what he wants."

Bokuto grabbed the glass and took a single swing out of it.

"What are ride or dies for?" He grinned, latching an arm around my shoulders.

Daishou walked away with a sneer. His plan clearly backfired, and his little gang of delinquents finally removed themselves from my thought space.

I smiled at the bubbly idiot next to me.

"Thanks, Bo."

His face suddenly turned serious.

"Please don't tell Akaashi."

I laughed, because Akaashi was a demon when it came to drinking. He was one of the people that will take part in my soon-to-happen rehab along with Bokuto, Yaku, and Kenma.

I chugged some more of my favorite drink—beer.

It was a hazy yellow.

Almost gold.

—

Six months without drinking.

Two months without sex.

Four days with Bokuto complaining about not seeing Akaashi.

"He hasn't answered my texts," Bokuto frowned as he spread himself across the table. It was a coincidence that we were both accepted into the same school. We both got on with Volleyball scholarships, but I was actually working on a doctorate. Despite our well-rounded schedules, we managed to stir up a storm at the school on the first day.

The school probably regretted admitting us both.

"Because he has mid-terms," I snorted. "He even blocked me, and I'm a pleasure to talk with." I showed how my messages didn't go through to Akaashi.

"But he's my boyfriend!" Bokuto whined. "You can't just block your boyfriend." He groaned as he slammed his face on the textbooks.

I sat silently.

"There's something I want to ask you, Bo."

Bokuto looked up, curiosity overcoming him. "Ask me anything, Bro."

I went silent again.

"How did you start dating Akaashi?"

Bokuto tilted his head.

He scratched the side of his hair and furrowed his fluffy eyebrows together.

"I don't know. I think we got like really close and one day he just told me he liked me." Bokuto shrugged his shoulders. "I was surprised because I had a girlfriend. But I don't really think he expected me to do anything."

"He just came up to me during practice and walked away, as if he was telling me news instead of confessing." Bokuto looked mesmerized. He probably didn't think much of Akaashi's approach.

"Then later on in the locker room I kinda kissed him." He blushed a deep red.

I've never seen Bokuto blush.

"I told him I broke up with my girlfriend the day before because I was thinking about confessing to him, so it was really cool that he did it because I would probably get all embarrassed." He sighed and stretched back in his chair. "Not really romantic?" He chuckled as he bounced forward in his chair and grinned one of his grins.

_That's not what I was asking._

Bokuto's not dumb, but he's pretty dim-witted. Especially about other people.

Did he just accept the fact that he liked a guy without hesitation?

A feeling churned in my stomach.

 _Jealousy_.

"But then again, I was scared. I didn't really think I was gay. I still don't. But Akaashi's different. I love him for him ya know? I don't really care what gender he is."

I was surprised. I never knew Bokuto could empathize in different ways. He was always so courageous, and he usually acted before thinking.

But in Akaashi's case, Bo probably spent a lot of time thinking about it. It was probably something he did on the spot, but he wasn't one to say stuff that deep.

_Bokuto really is something._

"Oh my god do you think I'm Akaashisexual?" He bursted, ruining the moment.

"Does that mean you wouldn't fuck me?" I winked, pointing at my body.

"Nah dude, I'd fuck you. You're pretty hot." Bokuto laughed. "Join me and Akaashi for a threesome sometime, he gets pretty kinky—"

I molded my face into one of disgust.

"TMI dude. TMI."

—

"Finally!" I didn't even have time to set my tea on the table before Bokuto jumped up and reached for the door.

My arm was painted with leaves and brown water.

I can just imagine Bokuto's murder trial.

' _Hello, I am Kuroo Tetsurou and for five long years I have been a victim of Bokuto Koutarou. If you were me you would have killed him too_.'

The green eyed spectacle was scrolling through his phone when the door opened. He was never even given the opportunity to brace himself for the oncoming attack.

Poor soul.

"Bokuto-san, please get off me.". Akaashi, polite as ever, murmered underneath the strong and muscular arms of Bokuto.

"So you finally join the College party, welcome to hell Keiji." I sprawled myself on top of the couch.

Yes, I mean on top. I don't like going on the couch cushions but rather on the backing of it. It makes me feel like a cat, no one understands except Kenma.

"Wow, I'm so excited." Akaashi started unpacking his load in the room. He aspired to be a Lawyer, to which I recommended our college. Bokuto offered to be his roommate to which he agreed too.

Bokuto forgot that he already had one.

And that roommate happened to be the idiot that found out the day before.

_Hint: Their name rhymes with Churro._

I was moving out anyway, because this was going to be my last year in the dorms. I finally managed to scrape up enough to pay rent bills.

Time is considered precious, I didn't realize until I was welcomed to the Bokuto and Akaashi household for Christmas.

Three months passed.

And in a matter of seconds, Bokuto and I were curiously fondling the turkey.

Akaashi had enough after one of us started pretend-moaning.

"What if we spike the turkey?"

"Dude, no. We don't have a net."

"And if we use the couch?"

"....Done."

So thus began the greatest idea in history.

I still feel sorrow for Akaashi. He just waved us away and locked himself in his room.

"Did you know Fukurodani's went to nationals this year?" Bokuto commented, twisting his body at the right angle.

I didn't even _attempt_ to block.

I had gotten into the school through a Volleyball scholarship.

And yet somehow I forgot how to jump.

"Oh yeah?"

My voice shrilled several octaves. I was sure I passed puberty four years ago.

"Si. They had to beat Nekoma. Sorry dude," he grinned with no remorse shinning in his eyes.

I was tempted to roll mine.

"Oh really? I was told Nohebi had busted you guys. How do you feel being a snake's bait?" I launched myself upwards, ripping through the air and letting the familiarity of my adrenaline surround me.

"Aw. You had to bring those rats up. The national championship was the same as always. Karasuno vs some poor guys. Sickening." He sighed as he tired himself out with his relentless spikes.

_They've gotten better._

"Nice," I tried to stray off as quickly as possible.

But after three years, the curiosity becomes a cage. And I was aching to break out.

Akaashi came out of his room around that time.

"Babe, do you remember the power duo?" He shouts at Akaashi, dropping the raw turkey. I saved it impressively, and secretly gave myself a pat on the back. _Great fucking dive, Kuroo. This is why you're so awesome._

Akaashi snorted. "How can I forget? Thing one kept getting angry because I was staring at his tiny boyfriend. It was just because he seemed like he swallowed a firecracker. I thought it was going to go off. Turns out, he's always like that." He grabbed Bokuto by his collar, leading him to the couch as if he were a dog.

Bokuto doesn't mind.

"The king guy and shrimpy?" I lamely stated. The conversation was slowly going the direction I wanted it to go. "I only remember their captain. What's his name... Dazai? Daichi? Scrappy fella."

Bokuto shook his head. "Remember the training camps?"

_I don't know, it's not like it's the only thing on my mind even after three years._

"There was this guy. The tall one? The one you liked to bully? _Tsukki_?"

I haven't heard his name in so long. I wanted to use the conversation as an excuse to shout it as many times as I wanted to.

_Tsukki._

_Tsukki._

_Tsukki._

_But I've moved on, right?_

Akaashi widened his eyes.

"The blonde one? Oh my god." He groaned as he threw his legs over Bokuto's lap. "He's such a pain-in-the-ass. Reminds me of Kuroo. Holy fuck, whenever he was switched up front I only had two choices. Try my luck with setting it to the opposite side of where he was, or a slammed dump."

_So you've finally realized what you're capable of, Kei?_

A sensation swelled in my chest.

 _Pride_.

But then I remembered, his pride was made by himself. I had nothing to pitch into his discovery of his talents. And it frustrated me, because I remember thinking that I'd be the cause for him breaking out of his shell.

I'd be the one to help him.

_Looks like you figured it out on your own._

I didn't know how to feel.

—

"I can't believe Lev still doesn't know to receive."

"Dude, Lev is a killer. Who cares if you aren't a genius receiver when you're a younger version of that guy Ushijima? Yaku and you must have really shaped him last year." Bokuto responded to Kenma, laughing.

We sat on the stadium, still relishing in the win of Nekoma. They were going to quarter-finals of Spring High. Inter-high was a mess for them, because Lev twisted his wrist and was unable to spike. Now that he was better, the team really did improve.

Nekoma is a team that relies on their receives, on intelligence rather than brute force. But now that they had both, it was almost beautiful to see them play.

Fukorodani played immediately after, and Bokuto refused to leave until he saw what his old team was like, three years after he left. It was nostalgic, and I could remember the times when Volleyball was more about playing and not about making money.

I always believed my luck was decent.

And when I saw his blonde head bobbing on the field as an opponent, my body fell limp.

Kenma stared at me, knowingly. He's he only one that knew.

He's the only one that knows I didn't accept Tsukishima's confession.

His hair got longer. His shoulders, broad and yet his body was lean. His glasses were the same, black rimmed, and the only thing that really bothered me was the number on his back.

1.

The shirt only captains wore.

My thoughts were confirmed when he presented himself to Fukurodani's captain and politely shook his hand. He sent a smirk, a nasty one that sent chills up your spine.

His eyes looked up, and I was aching for them to meet mine. I wanted to see if they were the same, the bored and taunting ones that I still vividly remember.

But he didn't meet mine, and stared at the huge crowd that was on Karasuno's benches.

"Go, Kei, go! Go, Kei, go!"

"Karasuno, fight! Karasuno, fight!"

The cheers only increased when he sent them a dazzling smile. It reeked of fakeness and arrogance but the people roared in approval at the captian of Karasuno, the undefeated champions.

His companion, a freckled boy with multiple piercings on his ear and a man bun, and him seemed to make a womanizer duo. Tsukishima flirted endlessly with the females, leaning against the benches and grinning at the sight of the girls that fell in awe.

"Wow, fuck boy alert." Akaashi quietly muttered, which Kenma agreed with. Bokuto laughed, and I stayed quiet all the while.

"Remember when Kuroo used to be like that? Oh my god, he had a new girlfriend every two seconds." Bokuto nudged me but I didn't budge.

_What are you doing, Kei?_

The other boy, freckles, was much more quiet but didn't deny a few genuine smiles to the crowd. His bad-boy appearance caught many eyes, and he was surely the heart-wrecker of the two.

Tsukishima went back to the bleachers, where the freak quick duo greeted him with a disapproving shake of their heads. He just laughed and patted them on the back. They chuckled with him, turned around, and started to call out the starting positions.

He had the full trust of his teammates. No one fought him on positions, and they all bounced onto the court with grins on their faces. He gave the first years high-fives, and I could see him whispering something into their ears.

He was _encouraging_ them.

The Kei I knew, would never do that.

The Kei I knew, would  _never_  have lost the opportunity to give a jab to the shrimp that managed to get stuck in the net.

The Kei I knew, wouldn't have helped him _out_ of it.

(He wouldn't have _kissed_ one of his managers for good luck.)

The Kei _I_ knew, wasn't _there_ anymore.

—

2-1  
Karasuno won.

The last point was service ace from the punk freckled boy.

Fukurodani, Bokuto, and suprisingly Akaashi were pissed with having lost that way.

Not that the game wasn't basically tied, just that Karasuno had a bit... more. Strength? Skill? Confidence?

I knew it was the captain.

Because when they won, I could see all of the members of each team immediately turn their head towards the shining figure. The MVP of the game grinned in victory.

Akaashi muttered about how he should have helped the first years more last year, and gave a detailed overview about what could've been done. Kenma pitched in, and soon it was only a conversation between the two quiet, but insightful setters.

Bokuto just shouted and started booing. His loud persona attracted all spectators and even some teams from across the field.

"Bullshit! I call rematch!" He pounded his fist on the bench, and his force even managed to move it slightly.

With those vulgar words, it was no surprise that they attracted the seeking eyes of a very confused blonde.

I didn't understand how a person could be in love for more than three years.

Interlocking eyes with Kei, proved how the world can crumble in a matter of seconds. I felt the air leave my chest, and found myself gasping to breath. My body felt numb to the core, and my lips forgot how to make words.

_Kenma told me a fun fact once, how words lose their meaning after saying them over and over again._

_I've stayed up nights saying his name, and each time it gains a different meaning._

His eyes were bright. They raged with a burning sensation that could defeat the rays of the sun. They weren't a fire, they showed a force that rises and ebbs; it analyzes you by either lifetimes too early or too late or none at all.

His eyes showed how made his stand, chipping away at accusations and ideals that followed him endlessly. And his eyes, fuck his eyes, they had a purpose. He was an ocean, moved by only the moon.

He looked so... _confident_.

That was a basic introduction that anyone you asked could give you.

But someone like me, that has memorized every faint motion he made and given them a reason, could only see how it was all a charade. His eyes had somehow backtracked, to a state where they now didn't glitter with the seeds of childish sarcasm.

He managed to hold the blank, empty glance for almost two seconds before turning to the restrooms, and promptly excusing himself from the wild cheers he left behind.

And like the idiot I am, I took it as an invite.

And followed in blind pursuit.

—

He was almost waiting at the sink, washing off the sweat and grim from the match. His eyes captured mine in the mirror, then blantly looked away.

"Kuroo." He said.

I would have said this name, but I fet as if I lost the chance when I rejected him.

"Good job on the match, you've improved with your blocks." I stated something, hoping the simplicity will convince him that the only thing I wanted to do was talk.

He turned around, and grinned one of his smiles. The ones he threw at the audience with every successful block. He was showing off his arrogance, as if saying 'better than you were.'

And I can't disagree because Tsukishima Kei managed to do everything I did and more.

"Thank you," his words couldn't be less genuine if he tried, "goodbye."

I stepped in front of the door before he could attempt to escape.

_Give me time._

He just smiled once again. It's funny, how he used to show his annoyance in frowns and glares but he turned to using a gesture meant to show happiness.

"You got a girlfriend."

Kei finally let go of the sickly, sallow grin to replace it with the poker face that I could kind of connect to the Kei I used to know.

"Yachi. We've been dating for two years." He turned his head, looking as if his words were rehearsed.

_Has he thought about this situation as much as I have?_

I nodded my head, almost sarcastically. "How sweet."

Tsukishima then turned his eyesight once more. Except this time, my provocation managed to get the glare in his eyes.

I was tired of silences and fakeness.

"Kuroo, I don't know what you're doing here but get the fuck out." He pushed me, and I swayed at the bruteness. Still, I had two years on him and managed to stand still.

"I didn't know you were straight." I bitterly replied. My words left my mouth before I could think about them, as always I was the one regretting while Kei was the one angered.

I used to think that if I could go back in time, I think I would have never talked to Kei. I thought it would have salvaged us both. But now, I see that if there was anything I would do, it would be to return that pride that he fakes into the amber of his eyes.

Right now, they were staring at me as if I took everything away from him and left him a hollow mess.

I wonder if I did.

I wonder if the person most affected by this wasn't me.

And now I can feel the weight of my actions burning into me.

"Three years later, and you're still an ass Kuroo," Kei sighed as he leaned against the wall, and accepted the fact that he wasn't about to leave any time soon.

"I wish I could say the same thing about you, but I'm having trouble knowing if your fakeness is a personality trait or just a defense mechanism." I really should learn to shut my mouth.

Kei gritted his teeth, and annoyance flashed through his eyes. He almost looks the same as when I called him over for blocking practice, except this time I wasn't trying to help him.

I was trying to break him.

"Fuck you." He hissed as he started pushing through the door. He grabbed me from the arm and was now desperately struggling to get out. My only option left was to pin him, and he spat my way.

"Are you really still focused on the past? Move on idiot. You're the one that rejected me." He hauntingly spoke, a smirk on his lips. It wasn't playful, but taunting and edgy.

"Only because I was scared!" I wanted to shout. Funny how the only times I should speak, I never do.

"It was just...We're both guys, Kei."

"You don't get it, idiot. I liked you because you were you. Why was that so hard to understand? Why did you have to include gender? There's nothing wrong with me liking you, I wouldn't hate you so much if you just rejected me and treated me as a normal person." His voice started off low, a whisper before he gave up on manners and started shouting. It was a surprise no one's heard the commotion, but out loud confessions were trampled by the sounds of volleyballs and victory chants.

I tried not to focus on the fact that he spoke in past tense.

"What was I supposed to do? I didn't know I was gay until I met you. I was confused and shocked and I didn't know what else to do. It's weird. It's not natural, and I can't stop thinking I'm an idiot for feeling this way." I moved my head down, loosening my grip slowly. My words would be regretted later, but I'll leave that to cry about in the night, and say what I need to right now.

Kei took the opportunity and shoved me off, his gaze softening. "You liked me?"

Liked. Not _Like_. Or loved.

Or _love_.

_He thought it was in the past._

And as much as I wanted to correct him, I couldn't because we were trapped by the cage called time. My time to speak ended before I could finish it.

Kei stared at me, laughing at how I wouldn't reply. His chuckles weren't to express amusement just superiority. _Just like I did when he confessed._

"Who's the disgusting one now?" He smiled once more, and I shook in anger.

I didn't even want to keep him there. I didn't have anything to say that could. These three years, I've spent on thinking about what I could've done back then in the training camp.

Right now, with him in front of me.

All I can think about is _why I didn't do anything._

He walked out of my arms, and towards the doorway.

"I'm in love with Yachi," he spoke, not looking back. "She was the one that told me to confess to you. It seemed like everyone knew that you liked me. And I slowly started believing that. Enough to tell you. I wasn't angry with you, I hated myself for the longest time. I actually thought you were _right_ in saying being gay isn't normal."

"Then, I realized why you didn't confess. Cause you had a reputation for pulling panties off girls right? Wouldn't do to like a boy, right? Disgusting, right?"

"I'm not gay, to answer your question from that time. I don't like the idea of having a sexuality to define yourself. Whoever I love, it will be regardless of the things they wore born with. Race, appearance, or _gender_. I'm a human being, Kuroo. So are you. I suggest you move on, because I have."

"Sorry, Tetsurou."

"No you aren't."

Kei stopped, he turned around and with the boldness that I couldn't ever place with him, his hands folded around my face and his lips collided in a soft kiss.

His eyes were open, and so were mine. Because this wasn't something that was built on lust or love. It was as platonic as it could be, and it _hurt_.

"Disgusting," he smiled softly.

His lips were more addicting than any alcohol I drowned myself in that night.

—  
**kuroo**  
i cant even blame this on my ignorance because i had the chance.

i could be sitting there, by your side but i was scared.

and now she's there.

and i don't know what you want me to do, kei.

because you dont look at me the same way you used too.

because you thought i wasn't looking back.

you could've waited for me. waited for me to realize that i'm wrong and stupid and so fucking in love with you.

what am i supposed to do with these feelings? bottle them up until i explode and fall down? but everyone still keeps standing up because they're built better than me?

any yet, im happy for you.

happy you didn't wait, because i probably wouldn't have realized how precious you were.

because if someone else hadn't noticed your worth first,

i wouldn't be writing this and realizing where i fucked up.

this isn't your fault.

i'm sorry you had to fall in love with me.

but at least you fell out of it, right? haha.

—  
**three years ago**

 **kei**  
hey kuroo  
this is really fucking embarrassing  
you probably think im very fucking pathetic right now  
but yeah i kinda like you  
oops?

**Author's Note:**

> If it was confusing:  
> Kuroo is homophobic.  
> Kei spent days trying to write a note, as Yachi suggested. Yachi is actually pretty smart and figured out he liked Kuroo. He accepted her help, only because she's the only person he trusts on the team (besides Yamaguchi).  
> He eventually scrapped it (the last letter he wroe is at the end of the story) and just straight up told him.  
> Kuroo didn't really reject him. Just told him his viewpoints on gay. He had noticed his growing feelings towards Kei, but didn't want to acknoledge them.  
> Three years later, he slowly begins accepting the LGBTQ+ community. He is not homophobic at the end, but he doesn't really know how to confess to a guy so it may come off as homophobia.  
> Kuroo spends that night writing a letter, and eventually scraps it. The letter is he one at the end.


End file.
